Motto (HP; Albus Severus, Fred II; 1000 words, G)
Summary: Albus mopes, Fred doesn't. For picfor1000.
Motto
"Stop moping!" Fred ordered, barging into the room with the sort of studied casualness necessary when the previous eleven minutes had been spent kneeling outside the door, carefully undoing all of the wards and trip-jinxes, for precisely such an entrance.
"I'm not moping," Albus said quietly, still staring out of the window at the bright haze of the garden in the vain hope that Fred would just bog off, probably. Hah!
"Hah!" Fred said, accusingly. "I know a mope when I see one - or don't see one, which is more to point, because, hello, giant Weasley family gathering!"
"I'm a Potter," Albus pointed out with a sigh, as if this actually made a difference. Which it didn't.
"And I'm looking around for my favourite cousin," Fred continued, ignoring this the way it deserved, "and what do I see?"
"Victoire?" Albus offered.
"No!" Fred considered this. "Well, actually, yes, because she and Teddy are fighting over Quidditch, so you should come down! We'll go flying! I am a totally awesome beater, let's be honest -- seriously, have you seen my arms?" Fred flexed pointedly. "God-damn, son! And you're not entirely incompetent on a broom, so let's go. You can mope later."
"Still not moping," Albus said, clearly lying.
"Angsting? Emoing? Gothing?"
Albus finally looked around. Fred inwardly cheered. Albus glared. "None of those are real words."
"I used them and you knew what I meant, which means they communicated the ideas I intended," Fred said smugly, "which makes them actual words. Q-E-2."
"That's a ship."
"Yes." Fred nodded, curls bouncing. "Yes, it is."
Albus stared. Fred grinned. Albus stared some more. Fred sighed and flumphed down onto the bed, making Albus yelp and slap a hand over the top of cup before it could spill.
"You know that probably wouldn't actually have helped, right?" Fred asked. Albus glared at him some more. Fred patted his leg. "There, there. Tell cousin Fred all about it. I will solve all your problems with my awesome genius."
"Awesome something," Albus muttered. Fred stared. Albus sighed. "That was supposed to be an insult, but I couldn't think of anything snappy."
"No wonder you're moping," Fred said, nodding sagely.
"I'm not--!"
"Okay, you know how I'm a guy but I was accidentally born a girl, and dad was okay but mum cried about it for ages and then got over it? And also how I'm dating a professor who happens to be a centaur and everyone was weird about that for a bit, and then got over it?" Fred asked. "And you know how James quit being a Healer to become a tattoo artist and date that bald German chick, and your dad went ape-shit, but he got over it?"
Albus blinked at him. Fred manfully didn't giggle.
"I'm just saying, no matter what, no one's tried to disown us, yet Well, except Gramma Molly, that one time with the eggs, but that was under completely unrelated circumstances. Anyway, I fixed the kitchen, didn't I? No harm, no foul. So," Fred added, on account of how there hadn't been a point so far, "the point is, whatever it is, it'll be cool. We can totally work it out. So, lay it on me, cuz."
"I'll give you five galleons if you never call me 'cuz' again," Albus said, but the corners of his mouth twitched up, so Fred counted it. "Anyway, I wasn't moping -- really! I was just thinking."
"Thinking in a morose manner," Fred agreed.
"I was thinking that it was the end of an era, us all leaving Hogwarts, and how everything will change now, and how I'll miss you guys," Albus continued thoughtfully, "but not so much now, because I've just remembered that you're kind of a dick."
"Pfft," Fred laughed. "You totally love me. And seriously, you picked the big family get together to get all weird about not seeing us? That's pretty ironic, man."
"...it's not ironic at all," Albus complained. "That's not what irony means."
Fred poked him. "Rose? Is that you? Have you been hitting the polyjuice again?"
Albus rolled his eyes. "Hardly." He frowned. "Wait, again?"
"I'm saying nothing," Fred said, grinning and dodging Albus's idle kick. "Come on, dude. We'll always be around. Anyway, you hid out in the dungeons with the rest of the snakes, so it's not like we lived in each other's pockets. Which'd probably be pretty uncomfortable, even shrunk down..."
"Stop considering how to make shrinking solutions," Albus said, eyes narrowing.
"I wasn't," Fred cheerfully lied.
Albus stared at his drink some more.
"Good grief," Fred muttered. "Look, Alby, things change, sure, it's sad, but guess what? Owls exist. The floo! Apparation! Port-keys! Relatively small population, limited area! Getting everybody together is a piece of cake. One of those good ones, with the layers and chocolate filing, icing and, like, giant buttons on top."
"Yeah," Albus said, mouth corners twitching up again.
"And if that doesn't work, you can just take over the world," Fred added. "Don't tell me you don't already have a plan."
"I don't," Albus said. Fred stared at him. "...I have at least three."
"There you go then," Fred said, sitting up. "You can come tell us all about them while we're beating you at Quidditch."
"You think you'll win?"
"Uh, yeah?" Fred nodded decisively. "Did you see the arms, dude? Look at these arms!"
Albus was almost actually smiling. "They're very nice arms. Handy, even."
Fred pulled a face. "Dude, no. Just ... no. Moping is way better than bad puns. Mope some more."
"No," said Albus, sitting up. "You've convinced me. Beat the beater time."
Fred rolled his eyes, but followed. "You'll see. It'll all work out." He clapped Albus on the shoulder. "One big happy Weasley family."
"Still a Potter."
"Still don't care," Fred said. "We love you, you love us, yadda, yadda, yadda -- Quidditch!"
"The family motto," Albus said dryly, but he let himself be pushed out of the room, so Fred totally called it a triumph.
Motto
"Stop moping!" Fred ordered, barging into the room with the sort of studied casualness necessary when the previous eleven minutes had been spent kneeling outside the door, carefully undoing all of the wards and trip-jinxes, for precisely such an entrance.
"I'm not moping," Albus said quietly, still staring out of the window at the bright haze of the garden in the vain hope that Fred would just bog off, probably. Hah!
"Hah!" Fred said, accusingly. "I know a mope when I see one - or don't see one, which is more to point, because, hello, giant Weasley family gathering!"
"I'm a Potter," Albus pointed out with a sigh, as if this actually made a difference. Which it didn't.
"And I'm looking around for my favourite cousin," Fred continued, ignoring this the way it deserved, "and what do I see?"
"Victoire?" Albus offered.
"No!" Fred considered this. "Well, actually, yes, because she and Teddy are fighting over Quidditch, so you should come down! We'll go flying! I am a totally awesome beater, let's be honest -- seriously, have you seen my arms?" Fred flexed pointedly. "God-damn, son! And you're not entirely incompetent on a broom, so let's go. You can mope later."
"Still not moping," Albus said, clearly lying.
"Angsting? Emoing? Gothing?"
Albus finally looked around. Fred inwardly cheered. Albus glared. "None of those are real words."
"I used them and you knew what I meant, which means they communicated the ideas I intended," Fred said smugly, "which makes them actual words. Q-E-2."
"That's a ship."
"Yes." Fred nodded, curls bouncing. "Yes, it is."
Albus stared. Fred grinned. Albus stared some more. Fred sighed and flumphed down onto the bed, making Albus yelp and slap a hand over the top of cup before it could spill.
"You know that probably wouldn't actually have helped, right?" Fred asked. Albus glared at him some more. Fred patted his leg. "There, there. Tell cousin Fred all about it. I will solve all your problems with my awesome genius."
"Awesome something," Albus muttered. Fred stared. Albus sighed. "That was supposed to be an insult, but I couldn't think of anything snappy."
"No wonder you're moping," Fred said, nodding sagely.
"I'm not--!"
"Okay, you know how I'm a guy but I was accidentally born a girl, and dad was okay but mum cried about it for ages and then got over it? And also how I'm dating a professor who happens to be a centaur and everyone was weird about that for a bit, and then got over it?" Fred asked. "And you know how James quit being a Healer to become a tattoo artist and date that bald German chick, and your dad went ape-shit, but he got over it?"
Albus blinked at him. Fred manfully didn't giggle.
"I'm just saying, no matter what, no one's tried to disown us, yet Well, except Gramma Molly, that one time with the eggs, but that was under completely unrelated circumstances. Anyway, I fixed the kitchen, didn't I? No harm, no foul. So," Fred added, on account of how there hadn't been a point so far, "the point is, whatever it is, it'll be cool. We can totally work it out. So, lay it on me, cuz."
"I'll give you five galleons if you never call me 'cuz' again," Albus said, but the corners of his mouth twitched up, so Fred counted it. "Anyway, I wasn't moping -- really! I was just thinking."
"Thinking in a morose manner," Fred agreed.
"I was thinking that it was the end of an era, us all leaving Hogwarts, and how everything will change now, and how I'll miss you guys," Albus continued thoughtfully, "but not so much now, because I've just remembered that you're kind of a dick."
"Pfft," Fred laughed. "You totally love me. And seriously, you picked the big family get together to get all weird about not seeing us? That's pretty ironic, man."
"...it's not ironic at all," Albus complained. "That's not what irony means."
Fred poked him. "Rose? Is that you? Have you been hitting the polyjuice again?"
Albus rolled his eyes. "Hardly." He frowned. "Wait, again?"
"I'm saying nothing," Fred said, grinning and dodging Albus's idle kick. "Come on, dude. We'll always be around. Anyway, you hid out in the dungeons with the rest of the snakes, so it's not like we lived in each other's pockets. Which'd probably be pretty uncomfortable, even shrunk down..."
"Stop considering how to make shrinking solutions," Albus said, eyes narrowing.
"I wasn't," Fred cheerfully lied.
Albus stared at his drink some more.
"Good grief," Fred muttered. "Look, Alby, things change, sure, it's sad, but guess what? Owls exist. The floo! Apparation! Port-keys! Relatively small population, limited area! Getting everybody together is a piece of cake. One of those good ones, with the layers and chocolate filing, icing and, like, giant buttons on top."
"Yeah," Albus said, mouth corners twitching up again.
"And if that doesn't work, you can just take over the world," Fred added. "Don't tell me you don't already have a plan."
"I don't," Albus said. Fred stared at him. "...I have at least three."
"There you go then," Fred said, sitting up. "You can come tell us all about them while we're beating you at Quidditch."
"You think you'll win?"
"Uh, yeah?" Fred nodded decisively. "Did you see the arms, dude? Look at these arms!"
Albus was almost actually smiling. "They're very nice arms. Handy, even."
Fred pulled a face. "Dude, no. Just ... no. Moping is way better than bad puns. Mope some more."
"No," said Albus, sitting up. "You've convinced me. Beat the beater time."
Fred rolled his eyes, but followed. "You'll see. It'll all work out." He clapped Albus on the shoulder. "One big happy Weasley family."
"Still a Potter."
"Still don't care," Fred said. "We love you, you love us, yadda, yadda, yadda -- Quidditch!"
"The family motto," Albus said dryly, but he let himself be pushed out of the room, so Fred totally called it a triumph.